MOMMY POST-DRAMATIC EXPRESS SYNDROME

My wonderful friend Lisa, over on her Deo Volente blog, posted the following comment a few days ago, which pertained to dealing with short-term memory loss.

She writes: "Another thing I struggle with is memory. I can't seem to blame the MS on this. I have always struggled with it. Most of the time, I consider it a blessing. But the way I deal with it is that I am a "list" person. I make lists, write things I need to remember down on my calendar and cross things out so that I can remember I did them."

Well, I can totally relate! I call these "Mommy Moments." And I have a dented, screeching garage door; dented countertops; a scratch that runs the length of my minivan; and numerous other household imperfections to prove it. I thrive on lists, too. Do you ever forget to put something on your list, realize that it needs to be done, and then after you complete the task, add it to the list so that you can have the immediate gratification of crossing it off your list?

Many times, I find myself setting out for downstairs to do something, and forgetting what it was by the time I get there. So, I have to go back upstairs to the exact spot in the same room I was in when I originally thought of it, so that I can "jog my memory" (by returning to the scene, I guess). Do you ever do that?

I'll tie out our dog on the back deck, then forget to let her back in. Then, when I do finally remember to let her back in, five minutes later, I return to the back door once again to let her in (completely forgetting that she was already back in the house).

Someone emailed me a "textbook case" of a fictional disorder called, "Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder (A.A.A.D.D.), but I renamed it "Mommy Post-'Dramatic Express' Syndrome," (MPES), and re-wrote it to make it more of a personal account of one of my typical days.

This is how it goes: I decide to clean out the van; I start toward the garage and notice the mail on the kitchen counter. OK, I'm going to clean out the van.

But first I'd better go through the mail. I lay the car keys down on the kitchen counter, discard the junk mail and I notice the trash can is full. OK, I'll just put the bills on my desk and take the garbage out.

But since I'm going to be near the mailbox anyway, I'll pay these few bills first.
(Yes, it's a very brick mailbox that etched a huge scratch down the passenger side of the van because I pulled way too quickly out of the driveway when I was running late one afternoon). Now, where is my checkbook? I go upstairs to my computer to find my checkbook. Oops, there's only one check left. I'd better call the bank and order more. Oh, there's my coffee I was drinking.
I'm going to look up the phone number to the bank.
But first I need to put my coffee further away from the computer, oh maybe I'll warm it up in the microwave. . I head downstairs to the kitchen and the dog catches my eye, she needs to be fed. (Yes, she's one of those ->"adorable" West Highland White "Terrors)." I put my coffee mug in the microwave and notice my bottle of vitamins. I was looking for them all morning! I'd better put them away first.

I walk down the hall to the bathroom to put away my vitamins, and notice that the laundry hamper is full (again); I need to start a load of laundry. I load the washer and turn it on, and on the way back, I notice that my houseplants need water.

I fill a container with water and head for the flower pots. Someone left the TV remote in the kitchen. We'll never think to look in the kitchen tonight when we want to watch television.

So I'd better put it back upstairs in the family room where it belongs. I splash some water into the pots and onto the floor. I throw the remote onto a soft cushion on the sofa and I head back downstairs trying to figure out what it was I was going to do.

End of Day: The van isn't cleaned; the bills are unpaid ; my coffee mug is still in the microwave ; the flowers are half watered ; I still have only one check in the checkbook with no more on the way, there are clean, wet clothes sitting in the washing machine; the remote has fallen under the couch cushions, and I can't seem to find my car keys!

When I try to figure out how come nothing got done today, I'm baffled because I KNOW I WAS BUSY ALL DAY LONG! I realize this is a serious condition and I'll get help,
BUT FIRST I think l'll check my e-mail.